Without you
by MoLoh81
Summary: A first fanfic...The usual MiaMichael conflicted relationship thing going on here...


"So, what?" Mia said as she tried to hold back any emotion that was building up inside of her. "That's it? Just like that? Over?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Michael replied, softly.

Mia just felt like her stomach had been ripped out and drop kicked. It was so hard to read him over the phone. Knowing that they were an ocean apart didn't ease matters either. Things had been great up to that point. She just didn't understand what was going through his head. Her legs crumbled beneath her and she sank to the floor.

"But why?" Mia asked, trying to mask the emotion in her voice.

"Mia," Michael said with a heavy sigh. "You have a completely different life out there. We both know it won't work out in the long run."

Mia couldn't think of what to say. A million and one things were running through her mind. And not one of them could be formed into a complete sentence, except one.

"B-but I love you," she said in a soft voice that betrayed what she was feeling that moment, utter heartache because the person she loved most was turning his back on her.

"I know…I'm sorry, Mia," Michael said just as softly. There was only the slightest bit of change in his voice; but there wasn't enough for Mia to know that he wasn't falling to pieces like she was at that very moment. "But I can't do this…"

Mia heard the soft click on the other end of the line. In complete state disbelief and shock of what had just happened, she stared at the phone for a second. The dial tone began to beep and a teary Mia came back down to Earth. Shaken, she pulled herself up from the floor, put the phone back on its cradle and wobbled her way to her bed.

As she made her way back to her queen-sized canopy bed, her knees gave way and she knelt to the floor. Clutching her stomach, she curled up into a ball on the floor, obstinately sobbing.

Years later…

Mia walked out of the terminal at JFK ready only to get back on the plane again.

The distance she had from the States these past 5 years didn't do much make her miss it at all. Ugh, she thought as she observes her surroundings. Only a week…only a week…you can do this. Just take the limo to mom's and stay there for the entire week…

Grandmere will never know she skipped out on the press conference. No one has to know. She could just pretend she was sick or something. Laryngitis, yeah, that's a good one…she could fake that with no problem. After all, it got her out of a few of her Royal duties a couple of times.

Mia was already concocting a list of things she might need to feign leprosy with, should the need come up, when she met Lars at the gate. Standing tall, wearing his usual Armani suit and looking very "Terminator-ish", he greeted Mia in his always stiff manner and took her carry-on luggage from her.

Although she knew what it might have looked like to other people, having a very large man in black follow a meek, young woman, but Mia always felt safe around Lars. Yet, this still didn't keep her eyes from constantly scanning the entire airport from under her Yankees hat.

No one could've recognized her anyway. In her oversized black Billabong sweat shirt and baggy jeans, Mia almost wished she had chosen an outfit that, albeit wouldn't have been half as comfortable, but at least then she would've felt slightly more confident.

Lars might've been good at defending Mia if the Yakuza, in its entirety, ordered a hit on them right then and there; but as for the person that Mia was most afraid to come face-to-face with, there would be nothing he would be able do to protect her from being completely destroyed.

Needing to stop at one of the shops for a magazine on the latest illness affecting women's health, Mia went in only to be greeted with her picture on the cover of the New York Post. The titled read "Royal Marriage off: Princess Mia left at alter!"

"Awwww, shit," she moaned. How did they know already?

On second thought, maybe if she acted quickly she could catch the next flight out to Iceland…

Mia walked out of the store, gave Lars a few bucks and asked him to go in and purchase the offending paper. If it had her face on it, she figured that it would probably be for the best to read (and possibly sue) for liable.

Her heart was already broken, she would have no problem taking her anger out on those who chose to exploit her wounded pride.

"Thanks," Mia said as Lars handed her the rag and she put on her sunglasses. "Let's go home."


End file.
